


guns and roses

by AGracefulShadow



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/F, F/M, Hélène has a soft spot, M/M, Mafia AU, Neglect, Prohibition, Russian Mafia, THIS HAS BEEN ABANDONED, Toxic Relationships, kuragins vs bolkonskys, look this may get very complex very fast, probably kidnapping later on, promises and broken promises, sonya has secrets that even she doesn't know/remember, the main character is sonya but the pov will change, there's gonna be gay later on trust me, you and me both, you're in for a ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:59:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13709691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGracefulShadow/pseuds/AGracefulShadow
Summary: "What's the worst that could happen?" Natasha hummed.Sonya has lost again. Natasha is just too persuasive sometimes, and so, Sonya takes her to a speakeasy, for just one night of what she hopes is peaceful dancing. Still, she can't shake the feeling that something is wrong -- and it only intensifies when she recognizes the singer, and the singer recognizes her. Sonya leaves in a hurry, but Natasha is dead set on them returning.One fateful meeting later, the two of them are sucked headfirst into a world of blood, manipulation, and survival of the fittest, a world foreign to them.So it seems.Soon enough, Sonya realizes that she knows her way around this world much better than she'd like. And with a blood tie and a promise made years ago hanging over her back, she has a choice to make. Does she pull away and leave everyone around her dying for answers, or does she endanger herself and others dismantling something that rightfully belongs to her?((abandoned))





	1. Chapter 1

_"I regret to inform you… your father's dead. Family business comes with its risks, I suppose. But the good news is that you and your brother can live with your cousins and I, until he can support you both. How does that sound?"_

Flash.

_"Wow. You're slow."_

_"I'm littler than you!"_

_"So's he, but he's faster. C'mon, slowpoke."_

_"Teddy, that was mean. Look, she's crying."_

_"Yeah, c'mon, back off of her."_

_"Fine… I'm sorry."_

_"It's okay, Teddy. I forgive you!"_

_"Really? Ha, thanks."_

_"Yep! Oh, they're going on ahead."_

_"Hurry up, lovebirds!"_

_"Lovebirds--?"_

_"Are you kissing back there~?"_

_"What? No!"_

_"Mwah, mwah, mwah--"_

_"Argh! I'll kill you,_ _Hélène_ _!"_

_"You gotta catch me first! And I'm faster than both of you!"_

Flash.

_"I can't believe you're already sixteen."_

_"Well, I'm older than all of you. You know this."_

_"Still! You're already sixteen and I'm only twelve. Maybe if you hadn't played with us it'd make more sense."_

_"Could be. Can I ask you a question?"_

_"I suppose. What is it?"_

_"When you're old enough… would you like to be my wife?"_

_"What--? Marry you, Teddy?"_

_"Yes. Marry me. But, when you're old enough, of course. Say, sixteen yourself?"_

_"O-oh. I… I don't know. I guess? You're giving me a weird look."_

_"Ah. Sorry. Look, just answer the question."_

_"I… really don't know, Teddy. This is all so sudden, and i-it's such a rushed question--"_

_"Well?"_

_"I-- Yes. Teddy, I… I will marry you. In four years."_

_"Good. Thank you."_

Flash.

_"What do you mean, you're leaving?"_

_"Well, Denis has enough money to support us now… and I've meaning to leave for a while… I want to go out and do my own thing…"_

_"But, you promised--"_

_"I… that was a year ago, Teddy and… I think I've changed my mind."_

_"Changed your mind."_

_"Yes… I… I don't want to marry you anymore… I don't think I want to see you, anymore…"_

_"Oh? And why not?"_

_"B-because of that! You're scaring me. Teddy, you've been… clingy, and controlling, and… You won't even let me talk to Anatole anymore -- not that I want to, given what he's becoming… a-and he's your best friend! Besides, you're getting older and you're a man now, and I don't want to…"_

_"A year! One year. Give it time. Your mind will change again. And what don't you want to do with me now? Just because I'm a man doesn't change my… desires."_

_"Teddy… please… calm down…"_

_"I am calm. Listen to me, there's no difference between what was a year ago and what's now. I've always been like this. Think. You can remember it, right?"_

_"Not to the same degree…? I just… I don't feel as comfortable as I did last year…"_

_"I don't see why. I haven't changed at all. Perhaps you have -- did you consider that?"_

_"Yes, and--"_

_"Consider it again. I love you. I don't want you to change for the worse. Just stay with me. Make it easier for your brother. Why are you pulling aw--"_

_"Teddy, listen. I can't. I just… can't. He wants me to come with him, away from here. Maybe I'll find someone new. I'll… always remember you, Teddy. I just, can't stay."_

_"Always, eh?"_

_"A-always."_

_"Well, if I find you again, will you remember me?"_

_"Yes, of course."_

_"Ten years from now?"_

_"Well, maybe it won't be as sharp, but yes, Teddy, of course."_

_"Hm. You won't. I know how you women are."_

_"W-what? How can you say that?"_

_"How I just did. Either you stay with me, or you forget me. I don't want to lose you."_

_"I promise, Teddy. I won't forget you."_

_"Promise, eh?"_

_"Yes. Promise. Let me go. He's waiting for me to join him."_

_"Fine. You know where you're going?"_

_"A house in the country, a small one, but it's cheap. Not far, but not close. May I leave now?"_

_"...Of course. I love you, Sofia."_

_"....Goodbye, Teddy."_

Flash.

_"D-Denis! Where are you?"_

_"Where--"_

_"Please, someone help! I can't see through all this smoke."_

_"Oh, my God, please get me out of this…"_

_"Ah! What was that?"_

_"Oh, God…. that's a long fall...."_

_"Denis? Where are you? Are you okay?"_

_"Denis! No!"_

_"Dear God… Please protect him…"_

Flash.

_"Ah, you're alive! You're badly burned there, miss. And your leg… Mm… it looks broken. Here. Up. Can you walk? No? Can you talk? Oo… Too scared? C'mon there. Put your arm around my shoulder… I'll get you to the hospital,. don't fret. Say, you look only a little older than my youngest daughter... Here. Gently now. Easy does it. If it hurts, just say the word. Now then. Where was I? Ah yes. You look far too young to be living on your own... "_

_"Denis…"_

_"Denis? Who's he? Brother, lover? Should hope he's not your lover, you're a bit young for that…"_

_"Brother…"_

_"Your voice sounds terrible, miss. I wouldn't talk much after this. He live with you, I'll bit… Well, I hate to tell you, but I looked through the entire house before I found you… And… there's wasn't anyone there. I… He might have died. I'm sorry, miss. Don't have a family besides him, I'm guessing. Guess that means you're alone now."_

_"No…"_

_"No, you're not, or no, he can't be dead?"_

_"Dead…"_

_"I'm sorry, miss… well, what_ is _your name?  It would make it much less awkward between us. I'm Ilya Rostov."_

_"So…."_

_"Hm? Sonya?"_

_"So…."_

_"Right. Okay. Well, Sonya, you're about my youngest daughter's age, as I was saying. Since you don't have anyone… care to live with me? I have four children,, and all of them are nice. I don't know you very well yet, mind you, but I think you'd get along wonderfully. How does that sound? Roof over your head, food, water, and four people you can talk to. Well?"_

_"Mm…"_

_"Actually, you know what, you can think it over. We should get you fixed up first. Don't worry about the money. I have you covered on that one. Get some rest now. It'll help the burns heal faster. Wonder what caused the fire… Far too thorough to be natural…"_

Flash, and up she sat.

She wrapped her hands around her sides, staring straight ahead in the darkness. It wasn't too dark, no; the moon took care of that. But it was the kind of dark that encroached on your vision if you stared too long into the depths, like it was taking over your soul. She closed her eyes and shuddered. Or like it was eating away at it, like flames on wood--

She bit her lip. Her scarred right hand rubbed over the matching red on her left arm. Strange. Of all nights to relive that night. She should have expected the ten year anniversary of it to trigger it. Still. It was always unexpected, and. tonight was even odder. Her eyes shut and she tried to reimagine it.

Voices, snippets of her past, coming towards her in a black screen. Even Ilya, whom she had seen only yesterday, only came through as a voice. She hadn't seen faces. She had barely heard names.

Teddy. Who was Teddy?

Delicately, she slid back against her mattress, curling her fingers around the thin sheet. The name itself felt important. Of course it did. Dream/Memory her had promised to never forget him.

Here she was, ten years later, and she couldn't remember a thing.

Focusing on his face was to no avail. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to concentrate on it, but there was nothing that came to mind. Just a commanding voice and a three letter phrase that seemed to have no meaning. Or did it?

She sighed and rolled over, away from the window and the moonlight filtering through it. The pillow was uncomfortably warm. Frustrated she sat up and flipped it over. She should sleep. Sleep would clear her head. Maybe it would all come into focus the next morning.

Morning came, and she had forgotten all about the strange name.

***

Natasha was a self-proclaimed "destructive" type bored.

This meant that getting bored meant something happening. Typically, it was never anything good.

Tonight was one of _those_ nights: the nights when she went stir-crazy from boredom, the nights when an uneventful day led to a restless night, the nights when she and Nikolai would end up at each other's throats and Sonya would break them apart before (a) they killed each other, (b) Vera found them and told Mother, or (c) Petya found them and decided to join in.

She leaned against the living room window, gazing down at the emptying street below. Except maybe now, she might do something other than break something. That is, if she could convince Sonya to let her go.

Speaking of her cousin, Sonya was coming home soon from visiting their upstairs neighbors. Marya was as well, although from where, Natasha wasn't sure. Marya, while technically their guardian, did her own thing a lot of the time. Not that Natasha minded; she was nineteen years old and without a need of a babysitter, thank you very much. Neither Sonya nor Marya nor Vera nor Father nor even _Nikolai_ agreed, for some reason. Natasha didn't understand it, but she chose not to question it.

The door clicked open and Sonya walked in, holding a plate of cookies in one hand. Natasha sat up excitedly. "Welcome back~!" she chirped. "You brought food?"

Sonya nodded. "Mm-hm," she said. Her mouth was full. She motioned for Natasha to take the plate as she swallowed. "Mary's an excellent baker. Sorry, not much is left." She laughed apologetically. "I just couldn't help myself… You and Marya can have the rest."

Natasha grabbed one of the chocolate chip cookies and took a bite. _Excellent_ was an understatement. She took the plate from her cousin and waltzed into the kitchen, savoring the flavor. "How is she? And how's Andrey?" she asked before she finished chewing.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Sonya retorted. "But Andrey's fine, and Mary is… as good as she can be. I wish she'd get out more. It would be lovely to go out somewhere sometime…" She trailed off and looked at the ground.

Natasha decided not to question it. "You have flour on your sweater," she said, wiping the chocolate off of her fingers. "Here." She dusted the white dust off of her cousin's gray sweater. "Oh, speaking of going out…"

Sonya pushed Natasha away and brushed the last few specks off the fabric. When she looked up, she seemed a bit wary. "Yes…?" she asked hesitantly.

"I want to go out tonight. Somewhere fun. You know, like…" Natasha trailed off, tapping her chin with a finger as she thought of the right word. "What's it, a speakeasy?" She thought for a second. "Yes, I think that's it. From what I've heard it seems--"

Sonya practically jumped on her. "No!" she hissed. "Those are run by the mafia, you know? They're dangerous!" She gripped Natasha's arm so tightly that it started to hurt.

"What do you mean?" Natasha pried Sonya's fingers from her skin. "Not _all_ of them, I'm sure. Besides, what the mafia want with us? I just wanna dance." She rubbed her forearm gently. "Calm down."

Sonya sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Natasha, no. It's illegal. We'd probably get caught, and you know where that would lead us?"

"Oh, relax. You're always so paranoid. What's the worst that could happen?" Natasha hummed and twirled a strand of hair with her finger.

Sonya looked at her in disbelief. "I just--" she began. "We could get. And go to jail. And Uncle Ilya's low on money right now, you know that too, right? We might be stuck there for a while."

" _Or_ \--" Natasha poked Sonya cheekily-- "nothing bad could happen, and we could have a fun night out dancing and maybe even making friends. Isn't that what Father wants us to do?"

"He told us to stay out of trouble while he does business."

"But on another level?" Natasha looked at her with wide, wanting eyes. "Please, Sonya? It would really be fun. Besides, if anything starts to happen, you can just take us home. How does that sound?"

Sonya looked away from Natasha. "Alright, you win. We can go out… somewhere, tonight. Did nothing happen today?" She turned away from her cousin and back towards their shared bedroom.

"What do you think? Hey, where are you going?" Natasha trotted after her.

"To take a nap. Something tells me tonight's going to be very tiring if I don't."

Natasha clicked her tongue and headed back into the kitchen for another cookie.


	2. Chapter 2

_ "She's gone." _

_ "Yes, you've said that already. At least once a day for a week." _

_ "Oh, shut up." _

_ "Are you okay? I didn't think you'd be so torn up over this." _

_ "I-- It's not what you think." _

_ "What do I think?" _

_ "That I'm in love with her." _

_ "It does seem--" _

_ "It's not." _

_ "You sure? You know, denying it just makes it more likely." _

_ "Hmm. You're not as good at reading people as you think." _

_ "Eh? What do you mean?" _

_ "Teddy?"  _

_ "Yes?" _

_ "Can you come here for a second?" _

_ "Yes. Be right there." _

_ "Huh. Wonder what that's about." _

_ "Mm." _

***

Music filled the air around her, a woman's sultry voice mingling with other people chattering and laughing. Cigarette smoke and its acrid stench swirled like mist about people's heads. Glasses clinked, drinks poured, people danced and had fun. 

And here Sonya sat, staring into the bottom of a glass of water and chewing on her lip. The bartender gave her a funny look, but she ignored it.  She had bigger issues to worry about. 

For one, she had lost Natasha in the crowd almost as soon as they had entered the little bar. Natasha's pale blue dress was one of many, and Sonya had nearly given up on searching. 

She winced and took a sip of water. 

That wasn't the problem she was most preoccupied with, no.  _ That _ problem was somewhere in the crowd, with his eyes never drifting from her. Sonya shuddered and glanced over her shoulder. What was it about him that set her off like that? It must be something about how earnest he had been, or perhaps how oddly familiar he was… 

She glanced over through the crowd and wondered where the man had disappeared to. It was unnerving her more that she  _ couldn't _ see him. She would have preferred the ability to at least keep an eye on him. At least he didn't seem to want to go after Natasha. Somehow, that managed to make it worse; it was creepy, his obsession with her. Sonya pursed her lips in concern. Why her? She didn't think she was anything special, certainly not like Natasha was. 

Sonya rested her empty glass on the table and turned around. Her fingers drummed on the chair. Where was Natasha, anyway? She had vanished almost immediately upon arrival. Sonya cast a quick glance at the clock; that had been half an hour ago. Immediately, the worst thoughts circulated around her head. Did the strange man somehow know Sonya was looking for Natasha? Did something happen to her?

Sonya turned back around again and motioned for the bartender. She was ignored. Typical. She sighed and spun to face the crowds. Natasha was right; she  _ was  _ paranoid. Maybe it wouldn't hurt her to loosen up a little bit. 

Her eyes met someone else's and she shivered and turned away. Or maybe she'd just sit right there and wait until she found Natasha again, and then they'd leave. Yes. That sounded wonderful.

It was then she realized that the music had quieted to instrumentals, and that the crowd had begun talking louder over top of it. Sonya straightened up and looked over her shoulder. People were starting to disperse, even out, and Sonya craned her neck to see if she could spot her missing cousin through it all. 

She couldn't.

Instead, she saw the crowd parting for a woman in a sleek black dress. Over her shoulders hung a sheer, gray cloak around with fairy-wing like iridescence. A white flower curled around her hair and two expensive-looking pearl necklaces draped from her neck. She walked with an air of confidence and pride. She was a stranger, but she seemed familiar for some reason.

Sonya looked away and tried to catch the bartender's attention again. It was the same kind of familiar as the man was, but it was different with her. The key difference was that the woman wasn't obsessively focused on her. 

The bartender ignored her once again; instead, he grabbed a crystalline glass and filled it with whiskey. "Here y'go, Miss Hélène," he said, shooting it towards her.

Sonya stiffened and inched away on her stool. Hélène. She knew that name from somewhere…  Something about this weird recognition of strangers made her increasingly more uncomfortable with every passing second. Hesitantly, she reached out and cleared her throat. 

"Ah, you always know what I need," the woman --  _ Hélène  _ \-- said, her voice gentle and gravelly. 

"Always the same thing," the bartender replied. 

Sonya coughed again. The smell of smoke had gotten stronger, dizzyingly strong now. She was getting a headache.. "Could I please have some more water…?" she squeaked. Gently, she pushed the glass forward. This time, the bartender gave her a look and sighed, but he took the glass and walked away to fill it all the same. 

"What are you afraid of? Try something stronger."  Hélène nudged Sonya with her elbow, making Sonya jump. "Hmm?"

Sonya shrugged and glanced over at the woman next to her, trying to smile shakily. She wasn't sure how to respond. 

"No money or something? That's…" The woman trailed off. "You've never been here, have you?" She narrowed her eyes and seemed to scrutinize Sonya's face. 

Sonya fidgeted. Suddenly, she felt  _ very _ out of place. "Ah, n-no," she stammered. "This is my first time." She glanced up and searched for someone, the bartender, Natasha, anyone, who could be used as an excuse to walk away.

Hélène had an odd look on her face, something skeptical and disbelieving. "Are you sure? I could've sworn I'd seen you somewhere before…" she said, sipping from her own glass. 

"No, you, uh, ah, haven't," Sonya replied in what was nowhere near as firm a voice as she had tried for. She opened her mouth to say something else, but Hélène spoke first.

"No, I've definitely… seen you before--" she played with one of her necklaces; Sonya bit the inside of her cheek to shut herself up-- "a long time ago, perhaps, but I know you." 

Sonya shrugged and leaned across the bar, wondering how long it would take to get a glass of water. 

"Ah, I remember now." The woman rested her drink on the table with a gentle  _ clink _ and leaned on her now-empty hand. "You remind me of my cousin, Sofia."

Sonya choked on the air she was breathing. Heavily, she sank back into the wooden stool. 

Sofia? Cousin? No. Of course not. It couldn't be.

"Are you alright?" 

Sonya cast a furtive glance over her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a flash of pale blue. She breathed out a sigh of relief and pushed away from the bar. "I-I'm sorry, but it's getting really late, and I really m-must be going," she said quickly to Hélène. With that, she darted off into the crowd, just as the bartender came back with a fresh glass of water.

"Sorry, miss, dropped the-- Hey! Where is…"

Sonya didn't hear the last of what he had said.

"We need to leave, now," she said to Natasha, with an intensity that surprised even her.

***

"So, wait-- why did we have to leave again?" Natasha asked in frustration once they were halfway home. She pulled her arm out of her cousin's iron grip and rubbed at what would surely bruise. "Also, that hurt."

Sonya sighed and stopped walking. "I… We did. It was getting… uncomfortable…?" She sounded questioning. Natasha huffed.

"Just because you can't handle crowds doesn't mean that you should ruin  _ my  _ fun--" Natasha muttered.

"It wasn't that!" Sonya exploded, whirling around. "It was… It was… It's… It's complicated, Natasha…" She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. 

Natasha tugged at her white gloves. "Then… what was it?" she said. "And how is it complicated?"

"It-- it just is. I don't know how to explain it." Sonya offered her a meek, apologetic smile. "Maybe we could find another place to go…?" 

Natasha shook her head with resolution. "No. You have to explain why we just  _ had _ to leave." She crossed her arms. "Come on, you aren't making sense."

"Just-- give me some time. Please." Sonya rubbed her eyes. "I am exhausted and I need time to think and sleep on this and…" 

Natasha sighed. "All right, I guess. Promise you'll explain?" 

"Yes. Fine. Sometime. Whenever. I prom--" She seemed to swallow her words. 

"...Ise?" Natasha finished. Sonya nodded.

"Yes. Can we go home now?"

Natasha nodded, a little dazed. Sonya wandered on ahead. 

"What's her problem…?" Natasha mumbled, before following her. She fancied herself extremely good at reading people, and it was bleedingly obvious that Sonya was hiding something. 

But what?

Natasha shook her head and came back into reality. Sonya had stopped at the street corner and was waving for her attention. Natasha raced forward, her boots staccato on the pavement. "Coming!" 

***

There was something strange about working at night, Hélène had to admit. The sun was just peeking over the tops of the buildings, casting its light onto her mirror. She squinted and patted her face down with a damp towel. Outside, birds chirped and the city came to life. Inside, it was peacefully quiet.

Ironic. She chuckled. 

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," she called over her shoulder, popping one of her earrings out. 

The door clicked open. "It's just me," Anatole said. "Lookit all this!"

Hélène tilted her head. "Oh?" 

Anatole held up a sack with a grin. "Tonight--" he dropped it on the ground with a solid sounding  _ thunk _ \-- "was a good night. This isn't even all of it!"

Hélène whistled. "Wonderful. Suppose that'll get Father off your back?"

"Shush. He's on yours, too."

"Not to the same degree~" she hummed. "Where were you tonight?"

Anatole waved a hand vaguely towards the east. "At Lucille's. Apparently, I was causing trouble yesterday." He finished that with a scoff. "What's wrong with having fun? We're outside of the law anyway." 

"Not completely," Hélène chided. "Someone gets mad at you and calls the police…" She clicked her tongue and drew her finger across her throat. "Even we're not invincible."

"Ah, but we're damn near close." Anatole grinned and sat down on the chaise next to the money bag. "I doubt the police would touch us anyway."

"We're not as feared as you seem to think." Hélène rose, pulling her hair down and running her fingers through it. 

Anatole held up a hand and stretched out along the entire length. "Yet. We'll be there… eventually." He yawned. "What with Teddy being second and all."

"What about me?" the aforementioned Teddy asked, as if on cue. 

The two siblings looked over at the doorway. "There you are," Hélène said, cutting off her brother. "I was wondering when you were going to get here. Who had the money today?"

"Rodion," Teddy said. "Since he was bartender, I figured it would be smartest to leave it with him." He strolled into the room and shut the door behind him. "I don't trust him, but I know roughly how much we got tonight. It's a test." His brown eyes glittered with a sort of malice. "Shame, really."

"Ah." Hélène sat down on the edge of the chaise. "If it comes to it, I overheard someone mentioning the police doubling up on the river. I'd suggest somewhere new?"

Teddy shrugged. "I've the spare bullets for a distraction." He pulled the creaky wooden chair Hélène had originally been sitting in over towards the two of them. 

"Mine went well, thanks for asking," Anatole interrupted, with a hint of a whine in his voice. "Although nothing seemed to happen tonight."

"They can't all be winners," Hélène mused. "Speaking of interesting, I noticed you seemed… out of it, Teddy. How come?"

Teddy pulled a cigar out of his pocket. "What do you mean?" he asked, fumbling for a lighter in another.

"You had your eyes on someone, but I couldn't figure out who. The crowds were thick tonight." Hélène nudged Anatale and motioned for a cigarette. "It just seemed unlike you."

Teddy shrugged and held the cigar in his teeth as he spoke, "No one of importance. She turned out to not be as much of a threat as I'd thought she was. You know how the Bolkonskys have been trying to infiltrate our land." In his hand, the lighter clicked, and he lit the cigar and took it out of his mouth. "Why?"

"Nothing, nothing. Speaking of new people, I ran into someone at the bar," Hélène replied. "She seemed… oddly familiar. Reminded me of our cousin, Sofia." She narrowed her eyes at Teddy's barely visible reaction. "What?"

Teddy blew some smoke and said, "I think I remember seeing someone like her as well. Almost too like her. Strange. How long has it been again?"

"Ten years." 

Teddy didn't respond to that; he nodded and tapped the ashes off the end of his cigar. His eyes were trained on the skyline outside. After awhile, he spoke again. "It's Sunday, correct?"

Hélène nodded. "Why do you ask?"

"Church is in a few hours," Teddy said to no one but himself. 

Hélène stared at him. "And since when do you--" she began. 

Teddy cut her off by leaving the apartment, his lighter apparently forgotten.

She looked down at Anatole. Anatole shrugged and handed her a cigarette. 


	3. Chapter 3

_ "He's coming back into power--" _

_ "He's a feeble old man. There's nothing to be afraid of." _

_ "What are you talking about? He's dangerous. You were the one alive when he reigned." _

_ "Yes, yes, yes, I remember quite well. And he's lost his mind. His son isn't a problem either, he doesn't care." _

_ "Do you know how to read between the lines?"  _

_ "Yes, and I don't know what you're talking about." _

_ "He's lying to us all. It's obvious." _

_ "I can't see how. No." _

_ "You're a fool." _

_ "I'm your superior." _

_ "I don't care. The information is right in front of you." _

_ "Get out of my office. I don't want to deal with you right now." _

_ "Fine." _

***

Sonya was unable to sleep. Her thoughts were racing, her heart was pounding, and the blankets constricted and tangled around her legs and arms, pinning her to the mattress. Something was  _ wrong _ about the events of that night. Something was terribly, horribly wrong. 

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. She was being ridiculous. There wasn't anything wrong -- at least, there was nothing in her control. Stressing and worrying over someone who looked just like someone she hadn't seen for a decade was going to get her nowhere. Still, she couldn't get the thoughts out of her head, or the pit out of her stomach.

She rolled over. Moonlight filtered through the drawn curtains, dappling her face with its brilliance. She squinted, yawned, and sat up. She had to get out of here.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. She pushed the blanket off of her and shivered in the cool air. It was freezing tonight, far too cold for the middle of spring. It made her old wounds ache. Running her fingers over the red scar on her left arm, she stepped out over the crumpled quilt on the ground and inched her way towards the window. The floor creaked under her feet; somewhere behind her, Natasha's breathing hitched. Sonya tensed. As much as Natasha  _ could _ be to blame for this, Sonya didn't want to wake her. Her cousin needed her sleep.

Her cousin. That didn't seem right. Sonya glanced over at Natasha and shook her head slowly. It wasn't time to think about the meaning of the phrase. Especially since that seemed to be the root of her problems. 

She shuffled across the remaining few feet and pushed the curtain aside. Gently, softly, she pushed the window up with an audible creak. She winced. After a moment's pause, she eased the window the rest of the way up and slid out onto the fire escape.

The metal was frigid under her bare feet, the red brick of the building scraped the back of her ankles, and the breeze chilled every inch of uncovered skin, but even so, Sonya felt better almost immediately. She leaned against the side of the window and stared up at the moon, waiting for anxious lump in her chest to melt away and take the incessantly circling thoughts with it. 

Ribbon-like clouds cut across the moon, and the first voices drifted down from the apartment above.

"...is sure to be getting more confident, we'll find him soon. No doubt." The first one to speak was a man with a raspy voice, like nails on a chalkboard. 

"I think there is doubt, sir. If he were, wouldn't he have made more mistakes by now?" The second man was younger and more pleasant to hear.

"He will soon. I've dealt with many a mole in my time. And while I run this family, I'm sure I'll encounter many more."

"But what about your mind? Surely you haven't noticed how little is an act anymore?"

"Eh? What do you mean? It's all an act, meant to deceive that stupid--"

"Sir, you're getting louder…"

Sonya stared up above herself, listening without even meaning to. She knew she shouldn't -- she wouldn't want anyone to eavesdrop on her conversations -- but something about one of the voices was so familiar to her. Despite how wide-awake she felt, she could not for the life of her remember who he was.

"...my son, on the other hand, should be coming back tomorrow evening. Can you spare someone for his safety?" The first man was speaking again, this time much softer and as gently as his gravelly voice could manage.

"Why do you wish for that? Surely he's capable of taking care of himself." A third man, older than the second but not as old as the first. "He's quite handy with a gun when it comes to it. Besides, you can't possibly be stuck on the thought that someone's tracking him, are you? They don't know all of our weaknesses yet."

"What do you mean? There's someone after him, I'm certain--"

"Vlad's right," the second man chimed in. "It's a shadow. Maybe you  _ are _ getting too old for this line of work."

"Too old? Vlad, hand me my gun and we'll see who's too old for this--"

"Sir, calm down. I can head out to check if there is anyone trailing him when he arrives," the third one, Vlad, supposedly, said.

"I could do it, even, Vlad," said the second one in earnest. "I'm a pretty good aim myself."

"Sergei, I don't think this is--"

"Well, why not? I'm better than you are, drunk!"

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Well, what do you think, sir? Me or Vlad?"

Sonya couldn't hear the response.

"And when's he coming?" Sergei, the second man, seemed to have won.

Again, inaudible.

"So soon? I'll meet him at the station. Or would that be too noticeable?"

"No, no, no. Station's fine. You have a streetcar, yes?"

"Ah, no, sir. I think he'd prefer to walk anyway, after a train ride that long. Stretch his legs a little bit."

"Then that works as well. Bring him here around now. We…"

The conversation trailed off after that, only snippets of words and phrases floating down to Sonya. She stared up at the windowsill above her and tried to put the pieces together. _ Why were there three men talking up there? What's a mole? And who was the familiar one? _

She didn't even notice the passage of time until something rapped on the windowpane behind her, jolting her back into reality. She quickly turned to face whatever it was.

It was only Natasha, thankfully, and not Marya. "What are you  _ doing _ up there?" she hissed, sticking her head out of the window. "It's freezing out here!"

Sonya offered a weak smile. "Clearing my head?" she said. She looked back up at the windowsill above them and wondered if the men were still talking above them. 

"And slowly killing yourself. C'mon, you're giving me the chills," Natasha muttered. "What are you looking at Mary's apartment for?" She tugged at Sonya's wrist. 

Sonya jumped. "J-just looking," she stammered, unsure of how to explain her story to her cousin. "What time is it?"

"Four-ish, I believe?" Natasha shrugged. "Sonya, get in here. Look, I'm being the sensible one. This is a once in a lifetime experience." She pulled Sonya's arm again. "Please come inside. I think Marya is going to wake up soon."

Sonya nodded. "Ow! Okay, I'll be right… In…" She trailed off as she slid inside. 

That was Mary's apartment. Those men were in her apartment. 

Of course, it wasn't just Mary's apartment; she  _ did _ live with her father as well, but that only explained one of the voices, not three. Besides, Mr. Bolkonsky was a feeble old man with a memory like Swiss cheese. He couldn't possibly have been one of them. 

_ "Surely you haven't noticed how little is an act anymore?" _

Sonya cocked her head to the side, turning that phrase over and over in her head. An act… Why would he be acting? Nothing about what she had heard made any sense at all.

Natasha snapped her fingers. "Sonya. Are you there?" she said.

Sonya blinked rapidly and put a hand on her forehead. "Ah, y-yes, where else would I be?" she stammered in a half-hearted attempt at a joke. "Lord, I need to sleep."

"You should. You don't look so good." Natasha yawned and slowly sat down on her bed. "Have you gotten any?"

Sonya shook her head. "No." She didn't tell Natasha that she doubted she was going to get any later. She crossed the room and picked up her blanket from the ground. "Good night, Natasha."

Natasha giggled. "Good morning," she said, already slipping back to sleep. 

Sonya tossed the blanket onto her bed and smoothed it out. Thoughts bounced around her head like someone had dropped a barrel of marbles on a ground. Picking her blanket up, she slipped back under the covers. She shut her eyes. 

Three men in Mary's apartment. Mr. Bolkonsky is acting. His son is coming back soon. Andrei. He's in danger. He'll be fine. 

She opened her eyes again and stared out the window with an odd sort of intensity. If only she hadn't gone along with Natasha's plan. Perhaps then she would be sleeping soundly.

Outside, the sky was slowly lightening. Shadows extended around the room, encroaching on Sonya's vision. It felt like the darkness was swallowing her whole.

She sat up, throwing the blanket off of her, and took a deep breath. Her heart was starting to pound so hard it felt like she was going to burst.

She bit her lip so hard it hurt. She wasn't going to sleep tonight.

***

Teddy was right.

He knew he was. He always was right. Not in the cocky way Anatole was, but in the know where to get the information needed type of way. He had tabs on everyone who was anybody, and if there was someone that appeared on his radar, he could easily figure out what he wanted. He'd always had a knack for getting what he wanted, even before he had joined the Kuragins. His association made it all the easier. Coupled with a reputation, he could get whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. One could go so far as to say he was feared. 

He tapped his cigar on the wall and smiled without any happiness. He was powerful, and he knew it. Another weapon he could bend to his advantage. 

As he lifted the cigar to his mouth, ashes fell off the bottom and burned his other hand. He shook it off without wincing. He need not forget he was human. Men might think twice, but the universe would not. He had to be careful.

_ Ah, hell _ , he thought, taking a drag.  _ I'm too young for existentialism. _

He had been spending too much time with that old man, Pierre. That was what it was.

Around him, lights flickered on in apartments, birds chirped from their perches along wires, and the sky turned pink with the brilliant sun. Teddy lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, holding the cigar in his teeth. It was about six o'clock. Church would be starting in a couple of hours, and there were only a few in the immediate area. That would make  _ finding _ Sofia much easier. From there, it would be simple enough to follow her home and pay her a visit. There was only one possible hitch in the plan, and that was her family. Well, not exactly her family. Perhaps the more accurate descriptor would be whom she thought was her family.

_ Blood is thicker than water, _ Teddy thought. She was closer with Anatole and Hélène then she would ever be to the people she chose to live with. One couldn't pick her family. Teddy felt he knew that better than anyone.

He blew smoke out his mouth and dropped the cigar on the ground, crushing it under his boot. The meeting should be wrapping up soon, and the twin moles would be giving him information soon. He pushed off the wall and walked down the street. 

***

The last thing Natasha expected when she had gone to church that Sunday morning was for  _ Sonya Rostova  _ to fall asleep.

Sonya never fell asleep in church. Ever. Of course, typically she wasn't quite as exhausted as she seemed to be this morning, and typically the sermon wasn't quite as boring as it was today. Still, Sonya was the last person Natasha thought would have fallen asleep, snoring very quietly.

Natasha fidgeted in her seat. She should wake Sonya up. If she didn't, Sonya might sleep right through the rest of the service. Imagining how that would turn out didn't bring any good ideas to mind. Natasha glanced down at her cousin. Still… she needed her sleep, judging from the night they had. Letting her sleep until communion wouldn't be that bad, either.

The priest lowered his head and said, "Let us pray."

Natasha decided to wake her up now and elbowed Sonya in the side. 

"Wha-" Sonya sputtered, sitting straight up in the seat. "Huh?"

"Shh!" hissed one of the women behind them.

"You were asleep," Natasha whispered to her cousin, her voice low enough that the old woman behind them wouldn't catch her again. "Are you okay?"

"I…" Sonya rubbed at her eyes. "Dear God, I couldn't get to sleep at all last night." She sighed. "I think you me an apology."

"Me?" Natasha asked, raising her eyebrow in confusion. "What did I do?"

Sonya stared at her. "You're the one who dragged us there in the first place," she said slowly. "You're the one who… Never mind." She trailed off and turned back to the ground.

"Who what? You're not making any sense, Sonya."

The old woman behind them hissed at her again. Natasha huffed and inched closer to her cousin so they were practically touching. "Come on, you can trust me. You've trusted me for years."

Sonya shook her head. "I can't, is the thing. Nothing on you, though." She didn't look up from the wooden floor. " _ I _ don't even know what's wrong."

"Oh, well, that's helpful," Natasha muttered. "But there's something bothering--"

"Shh!" she heard again, and this time it was from Natasha's other side. Slowly, both Natasha and Sonya turned towards Marya, who was giving them a  _ greatly  _ unamused look. "Do you two have something to discuss?" Her accent was  _ particularly  _ audible at the moment.

"Yes!" Natasha said, at the same time Sonya said, "No!" 

Marya pursed her lips, her eyes sliding between the two of them. "Right," she said.

"We'll…" Natasha turned towards her cousin. "Let's walk outside, shall we?" she hissed, grabbing Sonya's arm. 

"We… are?" she said. 

"Yes, we are!" 

Up front, the priest said, "In Jesus' name, amen." 

Natasha tugged Sonya out the door as the congregation mumbled, "Amen," in response. She pulled the door slowly shut behind them and guided Sonya over to the cushioned bench in the window. The puffy red pillow was so old that it gave up a cloud of dust when they sat down.

Natasha brushed some lint off of her dress and said, "So…?"

Sonya shrugged and tucked her legs underneath her. "I don't have enough information for it to make sense," she mumbled, avoiding Natasha's eyes. "It's just pieces of pieces of information from all sorts of sources. You know how I get, what with jumping to conclusions and always thinking of the worst."

"Yes, I know, but…" Natasha leaned into the armrest. "You rarely get this bad. What even happened last night to cause this?" She tilted her head. "C'mon, you can tell me."

Sonya took a deep, shaky breath. "I just got… recognized. I suppose that's the right word." She looked up, about to continue to speak, when something caught her attention. Her expression changed instantly: wide eyes, fallen face. She trailed off into a squeak.

"What?" Natasha began, turning around to see what gave Sonya that much of a scare.

A man was standing behind them. "Do I know you?" he said. His voice was gravelly, and he had a fedora covering his eyes. 

Sonya shook her head. "I don't think--" she swallowed-- "so, ah, sir." She looked positively terrified.

The man tilted his head. "Hm, no, I definitely know you… What's your name?" He pushed the brim of his hat up, and Natasha caught a glimpse of dark brown eyes, almost devoid of any light. They sent a shiver down her spine.

"Ah, um," Sonya stammered. "Sonya?" She said it like a question. 

The man raised an eyebrow. "That  _ is _ your name? Sonya?" he repeated. 

Natasha watched Sonya nod. 

The man chuckled.

Sonya seemed to shake something off of her. "And, uh, who are you?" she asked.

Natasha looked back over to the man. His impossibly dark eyes darkened even more. She got the feeling that somehow, Sonya had said the wrong thing, even though it seemed like a harmless question. Natasha twisted around to face the man more head-on, and the man shook his head slowly. 

"No one you need to worry about," he said ominously, pulling his hat down and spinning on his heel. His boots clicked down the stairs in a steady rhythm.  _ Click, click, click, click… _

Then, he was gone, just as mysteriously as he had appeared. Natasha turned slowly back around to Sonya. She could feel the confusion on her face. "Who  _ was _ he?" she asked. 

Sonya shook her head. "I-I don't know," she said. "I don't think I know him. What was funny about my name…?" 

"Well, it isn't common," Natasha offered. "That doesn't explain…" She trailed off, twisting around again to stare down the stairwell. "Where did he come from, anyway? And why isn't he in the service?"

"I don't know." Sonya sighed. "I… I feel like I'm forgetting something, something… Important." 

Natasha shrugged. "Calm down. If it's that important, you'll remember right?" She leaned across and wrapped her arms around her cousin's shoulders, her cheek pressed against Sonya. "Right?"

Sonya nodded and leaned against Natasha, but she didn't speak. 

"Come on, let's head back in. They're singing, so we can sneak back in." Natasha released Sonya, rose, and motioned for her cousin to follow her. She hummed along to the hymn the congregation was singing, and tried not to pay attention to her cousin's face. 

Was it just her, or did Sonya look even worse than before?


End file.
